


Undercover Angel

by EllenOfOz



Series: Undercover Angel [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Sex, Bisexual Dean Winchester, Blow Jobs, Bottom Dean, Bottoming from the Top, Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, Castiel in Panties, Dean Winchester Has a Panty Kink, Dean Winchester Loves Castiel, Flustered Dean Winchester, Ghosts, M/M, Masturbation, Panties, Panty Kink, Pining, Porn With Plot, Season/Series 13, Sort Of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-27
Updated: 2018-09-11
Packaged: 2019-07-03 07:08:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 18,711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15813951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EllenOfOz/pseuds/EllenOfOz
Summary: On a hunt like any other, Dean is startled by a glimpse of satin and lace under Cas’ layers. Dean is completely undone— it just so happens that Dean has always been fascinated by lacy panties, ever since that one time with Rhonda Hurley all those years ago…Concentrating on ganking ghosts isn’t so easy when you’re hopelessly distracted.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Destiel Smut Bingo square filled: "Acting out a fantasy"
> 
> Thanks always to my Destiel Trashcan girls for all your encouragement <3

“Cas? Get the fuck in here!” Dean called, then turned back to try to make Sam a little more comfortable on the cold, concrete floor. This abandoned train station had, up until a few minutes ago, been home to a pack of werewolves who had been terrorising the people of a nearby town.

Sam gasped and clutched at the balled-up flannel on his leg, trying to stop the bleeding from a nasty gash one of the werefuckers had given him. There was a lot of blood, but it hadn't been pumping out like an artery had been hit.

“Just relax, Sammy. Here, let me.” Dean gently took over holding the flannel, wondering where the fuck Cas had got to. He sent up a prayer, _Cas? Kinda need some urgent help here…_

Cas barrelled through the door of the main platform, skidding to a stop to look for them. His trenchcoat was missing and he was covered in blood splatter, his suit jacket shredded along the edges. When he saw Sam lying on the platform, his eyes widened and he hurried over.

“What happened?” he demanded.

Dean played a little tune in his head, _da da-da daaa, Cas to the rescue!_ And then tried to squash the thought of the angel dressed as Superman.

“Cas?” Sam gasped through gritted teeth. “Am I glad to see you.”

Dean cleared his throat. “Gash to the leg. It's nasty.” He stood up and stepped away a couple of paces while Cas squatted down on his haunches.

Cas lifted the shirt gingerly and winced when fresh blood oozed to the surface, staining Sam's ripped jeans further. “It's okay, I'll fix it.” He reached out one hand and a warm glow shone from his palm.

While the healing was going on, Dean frowned at the ripped edges of Cas’ jacket, wondering how that had happened. As Cas flexed his arms ready to stand back up, the jacket rode up a bit, but rather than getting an eyeful of crack as he was expecting, Dean saw a glimpse of something that made him catch his breath suddenly. Of white… lace.

Dean blinked twice, and then Cas was upright, dusting off his hands and giving him an odd look.

“Are you hurt?” The angel gripped Dean's upper arm lightly and sent a pulse of grace through him, like lightning cracking through his veins. The deep scratches on his arms disappeared with a high-pitched whine. Dean blinked again. Cas nodded once, then turned back to help Sam scramble to upright.

Sam looked at his torn jeans, frowning. “Aw, these were my favourite jeans.”

“Perhaps it would be wise not to wear your favourites hunting, next time,” Cas chided him gently. “Come on, I left Jack on the other platform on case more came that way.”

Cas and Sam headed towards the platform exit.

Dean was still standing next to where Sam had lain, his mind blank. Cas… was wearing lacy underwear? _Panties_? Of course there was nothing wrong with that. He could wear whatever made him comfortable under his layers, and no one would ever know. Until now, because Dean knew. And the knowledge was making his blood desert his brain and head for southern parts.

He let out a soft, “Huh.”

Sam called from the exit, “Dean? You coming?”

Dean shook himself and looked up, willing away his visions of what the rest of the panties might be like. “Yep,” he said, moving to catch up.

***

Two weeks later, Sam crept down a dim hallway, shotgun held at shoulder height. Dean was behind him, flashlight checking behind them for movement as Cas brought up the rear.

Dean had almost managed to make himself forget about the glimpse of lace he'd seen on Cas. The memory blindsided him at odd moments, in this case when the beam of light passed too close to Cas and he squinted blue eyes against the glare. _A flash of smooth skin on Cas’ back, a glimmer of white above the waistband…_

Dean shut the thought down. Now was certainly not the time to wonder what his best friend's ass looked like cupped in satin. He'd had enough trouble repressing the thoughts back at the bunker, although there had been a shower session or two where he might have let the memory escape for a moment. But still, mid-hunt was not the time. His dick gave a valiant twitch anyway and the distraction made him step carelessly. A wooden floorboard creaked slightly under his foot. He cursed silently. So much for the element of surprise.

The ghost appeared in the corridor ahead of them. The old man was looking nasty, eyes bugging and face haggard. He couldn't have been far from full-vengeful.

Sam murmured, “Fuck,” and the blast from the shotgun kicked him back into where Dean stood behind him. Dean stumbled, but Cas’ hand between his shoulder blades kept him upright, even if he nearly fell down again from the jolt of electricity he felt down his spine.

The ghost had dispersed, but now that it knew they were there, they had to hurry. He moved forward past Sam as he reloaded a salt round, away from the dangerous warmth of Cas’ hand. He tried to ignore the desire to turn and look at him, instead hefting the iron poker in his hand and moving towards the doorway at the end of the hall.

As he reached the doorway, Castiel cried out, “Dean!”

Dean spun around to find himself face to face with ugly, but before he could bring the poker up the ghost threw him backwards into the room. His back slammed hard into a chest of drawers with a clatter, and he saw stars. Cas and Sam burst into the room, Sam moving towards the single bed in one side of the room. Cas ran over to crouch at Dean's side.

“Dean?” Cas asked as Dean tilted his head to look up at him. His sight wasn't quite sharp, like he was seeing him through frosted glass. Cas made a “hmph” sound and put his hand to Dean's forehead, and with a high-pitched whine, blue eyes snapped into focus.

Dean murmured his thanks, and was trapped for a moment in the smile that Cas gave him in return. Dean cursed himself again like he did almost every day—he was fucked. Well and truly fucked.

They were distracted for a moment too long. Cas was yanked backwards, thrown up in the air and hurled back at the ground, onto his stomach. His head hit the floorboards with a thunk. What the hell was this ghost, that it could throw around an angel like that?

Dean jumped to his feet, following after. He couldn't see any sign of the ghost, but that didn't mean he wasn't around.

Cas arched his back and shouted in pain as Dean heard an awful shredding sound. Cas’ coat was tearing, followed by lines of blood, his grace streaming out to heal the damage.

“Dean? Help me up!” he said with a desperate frown.

Dean grabbed his hand and tried to pull him up but Cas’ hand was yanked away and he was dragged across the floor again.

Dean stood by helplessly—without the ghost visible, he had nothing to attack. He ran over to Cas again, waving the poker in the air above where hewas lying, but it didn't seem to make any difference. The ghost ripped into Cas’ back again, but just as Dean was about to try to drag Cas out of the way again, the air above him ignited. The figure of the ghost raised its arms with an echoing scream, before it was consumed by the flames.

Dean glanced over to see Sam holding the burning remains of something, maybe a small toy, a triumphant grin on his face. He turned back to Cas and dropped to his knees.

“Cas? Dude, you okay?” Dean’s heart was hammering.

Cas sat up, wincing as he put pressure on one hand. “I'm fine, I think.” He sat back and inspected his hand, grimacing again as he pulled what looked like a long sliver of wood out of his palm.

Sam stomped out the remains of the fire on the floor. The toy had been a marionette, the painted decoration indistinct now, but metal pins still held joints together so that the burnt remains slumped on the floor, looking like a tiny, faceless corpse. Dean shuddered, and turned back to Cas.

The angel was on his knees, getting ready to stand. Dean's mind blanked out again as Cas got a foot under him, and a long slash gaped open on the back of his trousers. Underneath, Dean saw the smooth skin of a thigh, and an edge of shiny, green satin. He pressed his lips together and tried, he really did, but a strangled kind of squeak still escaped him.

Cas turned with a questioning look and his trenchcoat fell over the tear. He felt around behind him with a hand and his eyes widened in shock. He glanced back at Dean, who quickly looked away and jumped to his own feet, turning to find his iron poker on the other side of the room. He had no desire to embarrass himself or Cas any further, and hopefully Cas would never mention it and they could pretend he never saw anything.

Sam was saying something about never having seen a ghost do that before, but Dean barely heard him over a roaring in his ears. _Cas was wearing panties again!_ This time they had looked like plain boyshorts, no lace, at least not around the legs. He swallowed, trying to bring his traitorous body under control.

“Dean?” Sam sounded concerned. Had he just asked him something?

When Dean turned to look, they were both giving him questioning looks.

“Sorry, what?” he asked, trying for nonchalance.

Sam huffed a laugh. “You hit your head or something?”

“I healed his concussion. He should be fine,” Cas said, heading for the door.

Sam gave Dean an odd look, then followed Cas.

Dean stood still for a moment, trying to ground himself. This was gonna kill him. It had been years since he realised his feelings for Cas had evolved from being just his best friend to something more, but this… This was a whole other level of fucked up. As if Cas needed another level of hotness to fuck with Dean's head.

As Dean headed back downstairs and out the front door, he wondered just what else the universe would like to throw at him. He’d been overjoyed to get Cas back from the Empty, and more recently away from Lucifer and Asmodeus. They’d brought Jack and his mom back from the other world, along with Bobby and his hunters, and now they were trying to get back a bit of normalcy before they had to try to deal with Michael. But now... this new thing, this… fantasy that had always simmered in his mind since way back in his hazy school days… And _Cas_ , of all people. _Fuck._ He swiped his hand over his face and sighed.

Outside, he caught Cas’ gaze as he neared the car. Sam was on the phone talking to someone, but Cas was just standing there, watching Dean approach with an unreadable expression. Since when had Dean ever been able to tell what Cas was thinking, anyway?

He quickly looked away as he threw his poker into the open trunk, shut it with a clunk and walked around to the driver's door.

Sam was still chatting. “That's great news. Thanks. Feel free to call me if anything else comes up. Thanks, Janine. Bye.”

Dean raised his eyebrows. “Janine? The hot cop lady?”

Sam shrugged one shoulder as he opened the passenger door and folded his ridiculously long limbs into the car. “She was nice,” he retorted as Dean slid in, Cas following suit in the back.

“Sure. Whatever. What'd she say?” Dean asked as he started the car, the roar and steady rumble calming him instantly. He stroked the dash behind the steering wheel absently. His baby was one of the only reliable things he had in this crazy life. He pulled away from the curb, avoiding Cas’ eyes as he checked the rear-view.

Sam looked up from his phone long enough to say, “Oh, they got the little girl to her nan. The sheriff caught up with the asshole dad—he's probably going down for DV.”

Dean nodded. That was good news. They'd come here to check out a haunting, but it turned out the ghost was the grandfather of a kid being abused by her own father. The girl’s grandfather had stuck around after he'd died to protect her. It had taken them a couple days to get the kid to admit to anything, but eventually she told them that her Pop had been visiting her. Afterwards, Dean had felt pretty bad trying to gank the old guy’s spirit, but he was starting to go vengeful, and his time was up. At least his granddaughter would be safe now. People were so fucked up.

The main street of the town gave way to a featureless interstate, and Dean glanced back at Sam, who was still staring at his phone. He quickly checked on Cas in the mirror, but the angel was staring out the window, lost in thought.

 _Don't think about what's under his pants. Don't…_ He resolutely turned to Sam. “You still chatting with Janine?” he asked.

Dean didn't need to keep his eyes on Sam to know the flat look on his face. “No. I'm checking the local news, actually. There are more hauntings. Not just around here, but all over. More than usual.”

Dean could hear the frown in Sam's voice, but he certainly wasn't about to head to another hunt now.

“Can we just get to Jody’s for now? I'm dying for a shower.”

Sam just grunted, looking back at his phone.

Dean sighed. Just an hour or so in the car with Cas’ presence burning the back of his head. Once they got to Jody’s he could hide a lot more easily.

***

By the time they got to Sioux Falls, rain was blowing in sideways. The storm didn’t look like it would let up anytime soon, so Dean pulled the car right into the driveway and the three of them ducked inside as fast as they could.

Jody opened the door to let them inside, her smile turning to surprise as she took in the pouring rain. “Whoa! I didn’t realise it was coming down so hard. You look like drowned rats!”

Dean shrugged off his coat, followed by his shoes. He shivered as he realised the rain had run down the back of his coat and his socks were squishing on the rug. Cas was calm and dry, looking like the raindrops hadn’t even hit him. Perhaps they hadn’t.

Dean eyed Sam, still shedding his outer layers. “Sorry, Jody. I’ve got first shower,” he grinned at Sam, picking up the bag he’d brought in and leaving his brother behind.

“Just put your wet things in the laundry!” Jody called after him.

Dean headed upstairs to the bathroom, waving a hello to Alex and Jack who were watching TV in the living room. He turned the shower on hot and peeled off his damp clothes, sighing happily as he moved under the water. His aching back relaxed—no matter how often Cas poured grace into him, his back still liked to complain about being thrown around on hunts.

And...there it was. His brain had looped back to Cas and his damn panties again. His mind replayed seeing the tear in Cas’ pants, the flash of the upper part of a strong thigh, and a ragged edge of green satin. His dick was betraying him, and he held in a groan as he squeezed it slightly to try to ease the ache. It was all kinds of wrong to consider quickly rubbing one out in someone else’s shower, but there was no way he was going to be able to go down there and face anyone half-hard.

“Fuck,” he muttered, lathering up his hand with soap and lazily stroking along his length. What the hell—in for a penny, and all that.

As he leaned one shoulder against the hard tiles, he tried to conjure up thoughts of anyone other than the angel. The blonde waitress he’d hooked up with back in Wisconsin had been pretty nimble, he remembered, even though he no longer remembered her name. Or the girls at the strip club in Colorado where he’d drank himself unconscious while Cas had been… _No_. He shied away from that memory.

It was no use. The thought of green satin had permeated his every fantasy, and now his soapy hand slipping over his cock made him wonder what it would be like to wear something so smooth. He considered how little he had seen of Cas’ leg wearing them—if the scratch has been just a little higher he might have caught a glimpse of an ass-cheek, the satin stretched firmly over the flesh. He stroked a little harder, cupping his balls with his other hand and squeezing slightly as he considered the pull and slide of smooth fabric over them. He gasped out a breath—he wanted to put his hands on Cas while he wore them, to bring him undone. He wondered if the angel even knew what he was doing to Dean—how deeply he was into this.

That thought was swiftly followed by another in which it was Cas’ hand, his long fingers stroking him, and he twisted his wrist harder as he clearly saw the wide-eyed look Cas had given him when he realised he’d seen the panties. He tensed up and came with a strangled shout, in which he absolutely had not said Cas’ name and would fight anyone who might have heard it.

As he scrubbed the sticky stuff from the tiles, he had an awful feeling this hadn’t helped. He might feel a little calmer, but mostly he just felt dirty and unsatisfied. How was he going to go out there and face his family?

***

A half-hour later, Dean was in the laundry, putting his and Sam’s damp clothes into the washer. The rain was still pouring down, and there was no chance they were going to be heading out again in this—they might as well get comfortable and stay the night.

He was startled by footsteps at the door. Dean did a double-take as he saw Cas standing there, his trenchcoat balled up in his hands. Dean’s eyes travelled down to Cas’ feet—he wasn’t wearing his shoes or socks, and his bare feet looked strange at the ends of his suit trousers. He was wearing a plain black t-shirt which hugged his shoulders—Dean was pretty sure Cas must have fished it out of Dean’s bag. He looked _amazing_. Amazing, but kind of uncomfortable.

Cas held his coat and shirt out towards Dean. “Um, would you mind washing these as well? The fabric can be mended, but it’s best to wash blood stains out first.”

Dean shook himself slightly and dropped his eyes to the coat, realising he’d been staring for probably too long. The long gashes in the coat were striped with blood where the ghost had slashed across Cas’ back. He coughed slightly to clear his dry throat, and said, “Uh, sure. What about your—” He gestured awkwardly to Cas’ legs. He had to look up again—the sight of Cas’ bare feet on the floor was doing strange, fluttery things to his stomach.

Cas gave him a patiently condescending look. “They don’t go in the washer, Dean. I’ll have to take them to a dry cleaner once we get back to Lebanon.”

“Right. Of course.” Cas never used to be so particular about his things. Dean guessed he was still learning what it was to have possessions.

Cas thanked him, and by the time Dean had looked up again, Cas had already ducked back out of the door and headed away from the laundry.

Dean looked back down at the trenchcoat, oddly pleased that Cas trusted him to look after such a precious item for him. He absently checked the pockets just in case he’d left anything in there that shouldn’t be washed, and abruptly dropped the coat when his hand touched something soft.

He bent down to pick it up again. It wasn’t… Could Cas have…? Chest tight with nerves, he reached into the pocket again and pulled out a bunched-up ball of green satin.

 _Holy shit_.


	2. Chapter 2

Dean glanced back towards the door, as though Cas might still be there, spying on him. 

He spread the panties out—they were plain boyshorts after all, clearly made for a man since there was a little more room in the— 

He shoved them back into a ball, quickly putting them into the washer with the shirt and coat and shutting the door with a bang. He needed to not think about these panties covering Cas’ cock. Not at all.

_Wait a sec_ … He opened the washer door again and pulled the panties back out, un-scrunching them and checking the back. No blood. And Cas didn't get dirty, generally speaking—Dean was fairly sure he still wasn't human enough to have to use the bathroom at all, even though he'd taken to drinking coffee and the occasional beer. Why were they here, and not _on Cas_? Perhaps he'd been embarrassed and taken them off after Dean had caught him wearing them. He might have forgot they were in his pocket. 

Then another thought struck him like a freight train. Did this mean that Castiel, angel of the Lord, was walking around out there commando? 

Dean scrubbed a hand over his face, his pulse hammering. He couldn't take this shit. He needed a stiff drink before he passed out or something. Coherent thoughts seemed to have left the building. 

“Dean?”

He spun around again, his heart in his throat, reflexively tucking the hand holding the panties into the pocket of his jeans. 

Sam was standing in the doorway, holding his own boxers in his hands. “Oh good, you haven't put it on yet.”

“Put...put what on?” Dean asked, pushing down panic. Sam hadn’t seen him checking the panties out, had he? 

Sam gave him a quizzical look. “The laundry? Could you add these?”

Dean scoffed as grumpily as he could manage with relief flooding through him. “I'm not touching your dirty clothes. That's disgusting.” He pushed past Sam, heading back towards the living room. 

He heard Sam muttering something, but he was already out of range. Jack and Cas were sitting in the living room, watching the news—Jack seemed enraptured by whatever was going on, but Dean couldn't help but stare at Castiel, who was probably not wearing anything under his trousers because Dean had his panties _in his pocket_. 

Cas turned to look at Dean, then his brow furrowed and he tilted his head in that way that Dean found completely not at all adorable. “Are you alright, Dean? You look pale.”

_Not adorable_. “I'm fine. I'm completely fine. Just going to, uh…going.” He had to get out of there before he snapped and screamed, or alternatively, jumped on Cas and kissed him. 

He hightailed it into the kitchen, where Jody was straining some spaghetti in the sink.

“Ah, there you are. This is ready now, could you give me a hand?”

Dean was so relieved to not have to go back out into the living room that he crossed the floor and pressed a kiss to the side of Jody’s head. “What would we do without you, Jodes?”

Jody glanced at him, amused. “Probably be a lot hungrier. Get some bowls out?”

***

Dean was on his third beer by the time he'd finished eating the spaghetti bolognese. He'd barely been able to eat at first, the balled-up panties burning a hole through his pocket and casting a barely-contained panic across his thoughts. Sam and Cas had told the others about the case they’d just cleaned up, and Dean had just sat quietly, not trusting himself to say anything. 

Alex was fascinated by a ghost that could scratch up an angel. “So what, it had claws? How did it cut you?”

“Some sort of claws, yes. I can be scratched,” Cas replied defensively, and Dean frowned at the memory of the grace shining out as it healed up the cuts. “My vessel isn’t impervious, but I can heal quickly.”

“Still, I’ve never heard a ghost scratching someone like that, or holding down an angel. Was the old guy a witch or something?” Jody asked as she started picking up dirty plates from the table.

Dean waved her down, getting up himself to take the stack of plates into the kitchen. He heard Sam’s reply through the doorway.

“No, not as far as we know, but he made that marionette himself. It must have been important to him, to act as his spirit’s tether. Kind of like Bobby... _our_ Bobby, with the flask.”

Jack spoke up now, as Dean started loading plates into the dishwasher. “Bobby was a ghost?” 

“For a little while, yeah,” Sam replied.

The rest of the conversation was lost as Jody came into the kitchen. 

“Hey, I thought I told you to stay put?” Dean protested.

Jody grinned. “Since when do I take orders?” She started helping him rinse and stack the plates. “Hey, you okay? You seem quiet tonight.”

Damn Jody and her perceptive mom-radar. “I’m fine,” he replied, concentrating on the plates in the sink and certainly not on satin. 

“You’re not. Come on, Dean. Did something happen on the hunt today?”

Dean sighed. He so did not want to talk about this.

Jody dropped her voice and nearly whispered, “Are you fighting with Castiel?”

Dean turned to stare at her for a moment while his stomach did its best impression of a lead balloon. “What? No!”

Jody continued to clean up the dirty dishes while she spoke. “It’s just, you’ve barely looked at him all night, and you’re usually both making gooey eyes at each other the whole time, or joking around…”

“We do not… we…” Dean wasn’t sure whether to laugh or be horrified, so he settled for a mixture of both and came out with a strangled kind of chuckle. Eventually he managed to get out, “No, we’re not fighting.”

Jody gave him a look like she didn’t believe a word. “Okay, if you say so. But whatever it is, you should definitely talk to him about it.”

Dean took that nugget of advice and put it firmly in the “Nuh-uh, don’t wanna” bucket, but he smiled at Jody anyway, nodding.

“Now, I have another important question. Apple or pecan?” She grinned.

***

By the time they’d eaten the pie (both kinds), cleared up and played a round of Crazy Rummy, it was after midnight. Dean had probably consumed too many glasses of whiskey to play well, but even though Cas had only learned how to play this game last time they were here, he still managed to take them all to the cleaners, much to his delight. 

Dean found himself smiling fondly at Cas’ smug winner’s grin on multiple occasions, having to turn his warm face away each time he remembered what was in his pocket. It didn’t help that seeing Cas wearing Dean's clothes was sending warm pulses through him. 

Eventually he’d excused himself and retired to his room—a single guest room that he had to himself after winning a game of rock-paper-scissors with Sam. He fished his phone out of his back pocket, then froze when his hand found the panties. He took them out, sitting down on the bed behind him with a thump. 

He muttered a soft curse as he fingered the soft fabric. What was he going to do with them? He guessed they probably didn’t need to be washed, but how was he going to get them back to Cas without him knowing he’d seen them again? He couldn't just hand them over after carrying them around for hours. 

It had been a special kind of hell tonight, having to sit there the whole time, knowing that Cas wasn’t wearing the panties. His overactive imagination had been filling in the blanks for him. He'd even realized at one point that if Cas had taken Dean’s shirt out of his bag, perhaps he also borrowed a pair of his boxer briefs as well, and didn't that just send a shot of blood down to Little Dean? He would have gone through his bag to check, but he couldn't remember how many pairs of boxers he'd packed, so that was no help. 

As he ran a hand over the front of the panties, he wondered what these ones would feel like against skin. His hand stilled. 

Perhaps…perhaps he could just try them on. Just for a few minutes. Cas would never know. 

He'd had this girlfriend in senior year—well, it was more that they went on a string of “dates” in order to hook up in her bedroom when her parents weren't home. She'd made him try on her panties, and much to his surprise, he'd…liked it. He liked the way they felt against his skin. He liked the way they made him feel, as though he was discovering something forbidden. Rhonda had certainly liked it as well—he still remembered that night fondly, over twenty years later. 

And now here he was, with another pair from a different object of desire. He tried to put Cas out of his mind as he laid the panties on the bedspread beside him and stood up to unbuckle his belt. He wriggled out of his jeans and let them fall to the floor, along with his boxer briefs. His t-shirt was gonna have to stay. He might be about to try on someone else's underwear, but he figured he might as well try to keep a shred of dignity. 

Picking up the panties again, he carefully stepped into them. A sigh escaped his lips as he pulled them carefully up over his knees, then thighs—he could practically feel the blood rushing to his groin. The satin slipped over his semi-hard cock and he swallowed, closing his eyes. The fabric was cool, despite only having been out of his pocket for a few minutes. It felt _awesome_. 

He ran one hand over his bulge, gasping a little, then froze at a knock on the door. 

He let out a strangled noise then cleared his throat and tried again. “Yeah?”

The door opened and Dean scrambled backwards, slamming both hands over his crotch and trying to pull his shirt down. Who the fuck…? 

The door opened and a tousled brown head poked through. _Cas!_ Fuck, this was bad. He was completely screwed. Dean couldn't move, much less say anything. He closed his eyes and wished for invisibility. 

“Oh, uh, I'm sorry. I've just got your clean…” Cas trailed off as he obviously took in Dean's state of undress. Dean heard him swallow, then say in a slightly strangled voice, “I wondered where those had gotten to.”

Dean risked a glance. Cas was standing by the door, wide-eyed and visibly flustered. One hand was still on the door handle, and the other arm held Dean’s jeans and shirt from earlier today. 

Dean swallowed again himself and tried to regain the power of speech. What the fuck had he done? Cas was gonna hate him for sure. 

“Uh, thanks. Look, Cas, this isn't what it—” He mentally backtracked. “Okay, this is exactly what it looks like, but—”

“It's fine, Dean. They're nice to wear, aren't they? I prefer them to the cotton ones.”

Dean gaped. 

Cas was looking at him earnestly, his eyes bright and his lips parted, a slight flush to his cheeks that made Dean’s heart jump painfully. The full force of what an asshole he'd been hit him like a ton of bricks. He had to get Cas out of here before he grabbed him and did something they'd both regret. 

He swallowed his panic and looked away, saying as coldly as he could muster, “Probably best if you go.”

Cas reached a hand out as he said, “But—”

“Please just…go, Cas.” 

Dean looked up again in time to see hurt flash across Cas’ face, before he murmured, “My apologies,” and left the room, closing the door behind him. 

Dean let out a breath with a whoosh, along with a few choice words. He carefully removed the panties, letting his stupid half-boner out, placed them on the bed underneath his clean jeans, then slipped on his boxer briefs. Only then did he allow the freakout to creep up on him. 

He sat down heavily again on the bed, his head in his hands, his throat tight. What the fuck was he thinking? Fantasizing about the guy when he clearly wasn't interested, trying on his clothes like some obsessed teenage girl...

Cas wore the panties because they were comfortable. Of course he did. He didn't wear them to…he hadn't done it for Dean. Or for anyone else. 

Possibly worse, Cas hadn't even been upset at seeing him wearing them. He’d had been _happy_ to see him in them, like he was pleased to be able to share this experience. He deserved so much better than to be friends with a deviant asshole like Dean. 

Then, to top it all off, he'd sent Cas away like some kind of child. He told himself he was a heartless piece of shit, and he believed it. 

He spent a good while wallowing in self-pity before he eventually realized that he was going to have to fix this. If there was one thing he didn't ever want, it was for Cas to not be in his life. But how? 

Dean rubbed at his face wearily as he realized he was going to have to apologize to Cas and return the panties. He could be cool about it, right? No need to make a big deal, just give them back and agree that yes, they were comfortable. Stay well away from any sexual advances or connotations. Sure, he could do that.

He was so, so screwed.


	3. Chapter 3

_These boots are made for walking_  
_And that's just what they'll do._  
_One of these days these boots are gonna_  
_Walk all over you._

The two girls stalked towards Dean, stepping down from the stage and over to where he sat, alone at a table. The club was quiet tonight, so he was happy to have the show almost completely to himself. As the dancers approached, the blonde with the thigh-high boots and the short cowgirl dress gave him a sultry smile as she mouthed along with the song. The other one, a shorter but no less sexy brunette in barely-there denim shorts and a plaid shirt cut off to show her midriff, pouted at him from beneath what looked like a real Stetson. Dean had to give props to this place for authenticity.

He smiled at the blonde as she leaned into him, shoving her ample breasts towards his face. The other girl started nibbling at his ear on the other side of him and he shivered at the sensation. He reached up to grab a handful, but he was slapped away by the brunette.

“Nuh uh, no touchin,’” she scolded. Dean turned his face to look up at her, pouting. “There's only one dancer who'll let you touch, here.”

Dean frowned in confusion, but then the brunette stepped away from him. Standing behind her was a cowboy. Dean took him in from the ground up—cowboy boots, chaps over dark pants, a leather vest revealing washboard abs, and a Stetson, currently pulled down to hide his face.

Dean gasped as he took in the stubbled jawline. “Cas?” he breathed, hardly daring to move.

Cas’ hips started swaying to the music and Dean nearly fell off his chair. As Cas looked up at him he raised one eyebrow in a disapproving glare, and Dean was sure he had never got hard so fast in his life. His breathing quickened as Cas stepped closer, then suddenly spun around and waved his ass in front of Dean's face.

This was it. His spirit had left his body, they were gonna have to scrape him up off the floor—the back of his pants were cut away to reveal what was underneath—shiny, white panties, trimmed with lace.

Dean groaned as Cas gyrated in front of him. The satin cupped his firm cheeks perfectly. He reached out a hand to touch, but Cas said, “Dean.”

He flicked his eyes up, confused, but Cas was still dancing.

“Dean! Wake up, we gotta get on the road.”

Dean blinked and lifted his head from the pillow. What the hell was Sam doing in the strip club? He managed a mumbled “Wha-the-fuck?” before he dropped his head again.

Sam’s voice came again from the other side of the room. “We're heading to a case. C’mon.” The door shut with a click.

Dean became aware that his rock-hard morning wood was pressed uncomfortably into the mattress, and he shifted, enjoying the sparking sensation in his core. _Cas_ …

No wait, he was at Jody’s, not a strip club. He woke up with a start when the dream slammed back into his mind. _Cas_ had been…and he'd been wearing…

He sat up and rubbed at his face, trying to scrub the crazy away from his mind. What the actual fuck was wrong with him? That case back in Dodge City had really messed him up—this wasn't the first time Cowboy Cas had featured in Dean’s dreams. First time he'd been wearing panties, though.

Fighting the temptation to palm his inconvenient erection, he pulled back the blankets, then yawned as he placed his feet on the carpet. He needed to get the panties back to Cas as soon as he could, apologize for taking them, and be done with this crap.

Unfortunately the opportunity didn't present itself that morning. Apparently a case had come in early that morning, when Sam had seen a report of strange deaths at a hospital nearby. He and Sam sat around the table, discussing the details over cereal and toast. It was late morning—Jody and Alex had already left for work, and Jack and Cas were out somewhere, much to Dean’s relief. He wasn't sure he was ready to face the angel after last night’s debacle.

“What's so weird about deaths in a hospital, anyway?” Dean asked, munching through his honey toast.

Sam passed his tablet across the table to show Dean the police report. “Deaths by head trauma? We'll need to see the scene, but sounds like this woman was thrown against a wall. This other guy was basically folded in half.”

Dean curled his lip in distaste, making Sam chuckle. Dean scanned the report, skipping the more grisly details. There didn't seem to be any body parts missing or odd smells that anyone had reported, but that didn't rule out a whole lot. He passed the tablet back to Sam and had just taken a bite of toast when Cas and Jack walked in. Dean nearly choked when Cas came over and placed a hand on his shoulder. Guess he wasn't upset about last night, after all.

“Good morning, Sam. Hello, Dean.”

Jack chimed in with a sunny, “Morning!” and headed out of the kitchen again.

Sam smiled, asking, “Were they open?”

Cas moved to sit in the empty chair next to Dean. “Yes. All mended. At least I won't have to walk around all day with my ass hanging out.”

This time Dean really did choke on his toast, gulping down a mouthful of lukewarm coffee to wash it down. By the time he stopped coughing and wiped tears from his eyes, it seemed Sam and Cas had shrugged off his reaction and were continuing their discussion.

“It's the hospital Alex works at, I think. Maybe she can get us into the pediatric ward.”

Cas nodded. “There's another child involved?”

“No, no children have been attacked yet. The reports don't say whether they were visitors or hospital staff.” Sam stood up, picking up his dirty plate and mug. “I'll just grab my things and we'll head out, okay?”

Dean froze. “Uh, there's no rush, is there? I just…got some laundry to do.” He carefully didn't look at Cas.

Sam scoffed as he headed for the door. “Dude, why didn't you do it last night? Come on, you can sort it out later. Let's go.”

Dean sighed and picked up his dishes, then rinsed them and loaded the dishwasher. _Now would be a good time to apologize_ , his traitorous brain whispered. But when he turned to see Cas glance up from Sam's tablet with a smile in his eyes, his body noped the hell out of there.

Cas tilted his head. “Dean? Is something wrong?”

 _Not adorable._ “No! No, all fine. I'm just gonna… Better get my…y'know, stuff.”

Dean hurried out of the kitchen, leaving Cas at the table. He was reasonably sure he hadn't imagined disappointment passing across Cas’ face.

***

Hospitals were never quiet places, especially when children were involved. When Dean, Cas, Sam and Jack had arrived mid-afternoon, the reception area was full of people, milling about and getting in each other’s way. They’d located Alex, and even though she hadn’t heard of any hauntings in the hospital building since she’d started working there, she still pointed them in the direction of the pediatric wing, promising she’d join them after her shift finished.

Since then, they’d found the crime scene, Dean had spoken to about five different staff who hadn’t seen anything, and had about seven different versions of the story from kids on the ward. He was frustrated, hungry, and antsy. He hadn't had any opportunity to wash the panties before they left—he'd just sort of shoved them in his bag and hoped that Cas or Sam wouldn't have any reason to go rifling through it, and it was making him so anxious that his chest ached.

Cas and Jack, however, were having the time of their lives. Cas chatted to parents, while Jack read a story to a bunch of kids. At one stage Dean caught Cas interviewing a small stuffed rabbit that a little girl was holding, and his expression was so soft and warm that Dean couldn’t look away.

Sam came over to nudge him out of it. “He’s good at this, isn’t he?”

Dean nodded, smiling a little, then turned to Sam. “What’ve we got?”

Sam sighed. “Not a lot. It happened late at night, when there were only a few staff on shift. No one was out in the corridor, or heard anything except a shout and a thump when it happened.”

“Actually, I can shed some light.” Jack said quietly as he joined them. “Josie told me she saw someone who wasn’t supposed to be there. ‘A woman, all gray,’ she said. She saw her walk past the door of her room just before the shouting started.”

“A woman?” Dean repeated. “Like, a nurse? Or a visitor?”

“She just said she was all gray, that was all.” Jack looked panicky that he hadn’t quite provided all the information.

Dean smiled as he remembered how new Jack was to all this. He patted Jack on the shoulder. “That’s cool, Jack. Nice work.”

Jack smiled with relief, then stepped back as Cas came over to join them as well.

Dean’s heart lurched into his throat. He was dreading the conversation that he’d have to have with Cas. Every time Cas came near him he nearly jumped out of his skin.

Cas didn’t seem to be suffering the same affliction, though. He looked right at Dean as he said, “The woman in the corridor? Ciara’s bunny told me that it was Jenny.”

Sam tried to hold in a snicker, and repeated, “Jenny?”

Cas turned to him, his expression serious. “Yes. I asked around. She was a doctor, one of the pediatricians here who looked after Ciara when she was first sick. Apparently she was killed in a car accident a few months ago.”

“And now she’s back as a ghost? Did she have beef with someone in the hospital?” Sam asked.

Dean wondered, “Perhaps she wasn’t finished looking after the kids?”

Sam looked thoughtful. “I dunno. Remember all that ectoplasm we found at the scene? She’s angry about something.”

Dean considered their options. It could take ages to work out what this Jenny’s unfinished business was. They were at square one, and it was nearly nightfall. “Look, I’m starving. Let’s just come back later on and see if Jenny can show us herself.”

***

Dean shivered in the cool evening air outside the hospital. They’d eaten a quick meal at a diner nearby, then he’d pulled out every iron item they had for their expanded hunting party.

Alex took the offered iron pipe from Sam, eyeing it dubiously. “I’ve never fought ghosts before. I just swing this at it?”

Sam nodded. “It only disperses them for a few moments, though, so stay on your guard. We can't use the shotguns in a hospital ward, obviously. Stick with me, okay?”

“Right.” Alex handed the pipe to Dean, then turned to Jack. “You coming, squirt?”

Dean grinned as he took in Jack’s flushed cheeks. The kid may only be a year in this world, but it seemed he had a sweet little crush on Alex. She was taking the whole thing with good-natured bemusement, but Dean thought he might have to have words with her about leading the kid on. He had no idea how advanced Jack’s hormones had become with his rapid aging. He should probably warn her not to play with him. The nephilim hadn’t really gone through puberty, after all.

Jack nodded and followed along after Alex like a puppy.

Dean turned to grab the bag containing the other pipes and pokers and nearly ran right into Cas, standing behind him. Dean stepped back, self-consciously rubbing at the back of his neck.

Cas peered at him. “Dean, I’m worried about you going in there. You seem stressed. Is this because of last night?”

 _Shit._ How was he supposed to answer that? Of course it was about last night! But he was supposed to be playing it cool.

”What? No! I’m fine, honest.” He grabbed the bag containing the iron and shut the trunk, walking quickly after Sam towards the hospital. Sooner or later he was going to have to stop running away from this—from Cas. Cas obviously wanted to talk about it, but Dean really wasn’t sure if he was ready to. He guessed it was kind of sweet that Cas was worried about him, though.

Night had fallen and the last hour of visitor time was nearly over. The hallways of the children’s ward were still busy, but there were kids in here who were sick enough that their parents stayed with them, looking hollow-eyed and harried.

They’d had no choice but to clue in one of the nurses near the place the ghost had been sighted, otherwise they had no excuse to be hanging around, even as FBI agents. The RN on shift was a guy in his twenties called Paul—tall and quiet, and as it turned out, a big fan of the Ghostfacers. Of all the people in this hospital, they had to run into someone who knew about those dickbags. In any case, Paul understood that they needed somewhere to camp while they waited for the ghost to show.

“So, did you really meet Ed and Harry? What’re they like?” Paul had already been asking questions for fifteen minutes, but he turned this enthusiastic question on Sam, full-force.

Sam gave him the patented bitchface. “Look, dude, if you’ll shut up about the Ghostfacers, I’ll let you help me salt the doors, okay? If we can trap the ghost in one area, maybe we can work out what it’s after.”

As Paul bounced along after Sam to pour lines of salt across the ward doors, Dean leaned over to remark to Jack and Alex, “See, this is why we don’t usually let anyone help. They get all enthusiastic and just end up getting in the way, and then someone gets hurt, or worse. And that just sucks for everyone.”

When Dean glanced at Jack, he was staring at him. “What?” A wisp of steam drifted out of his mouth. He breathed out, a cloud forming in front of his face. The lights in the ward flickered, and a machine started beeping somewhere down the hall. “Shit.” He jumped to his feet, calling out, “Sam?”

Cas, Jack and Alex jumped up as well, heading out into the corridor. Dean quickly grabbed the last iron poker out of his bag. By the time he’d got out of the office, the ghost woman, Jenny, stood at the end of the corridor in front of Sam and Paul. She stepped slowly towards them, glaring, leaving a trail of footprints in sticky ectoplasm behind her. She hissed suddenly, pointing directly at Paul.

Dean couldn't see Paul's face from where he was standing, but he could guess the wide-eyed horror. Paul let out a shriek as the ghost charged right for him, but Sam was faster, swiping his lead poker through the ghost before she could get to Paul. She vanished abruptly, leaving Paul a panting wreck.

“I...I think I’m gonna... sit in the office...” he said, stumbling back past them down the corridor.

Sam moved towards the others a few paces, but then Jack let out a shout as Jenny appeared behind Sam again.

Dean missed his shotgun briefly before he leaped forward, but he didn’t quite make it before the ghost darted forward, making the lights flicker and fizz once again. She flew right through Sam, and hit the wall behind him with a crunch and a splat of ectoplasm. Sam stood there holding his arms away from his body, covered from face to knees with dripping black goo.

“Fucking great,” he muttered, trying to find a clean spot on his shirt to wipe his face. “This stuff’s impossible to get off.”

Dean couldn’t help it—he burst into laughter, having to put his hand on Jack’s shoulder to hold himself upright. Cas, however, walked forward.

“Wait,” he said, pointing at the wall. “Look.”

There was a series of photos on the wall. Dean wiped tears out of his eyes, and walked over to Cas, still chuckling. The photos were of doctors, who presumably had worked in this ward for the years mentioned beneath each frame. One photo had been ripped to shreds, the frame hanging broken and covered in ectoplasm. The name underneath read “Barry Holmes”.

“Looks like ol’ Barry here might be in for a bad time next time he’s on shift,” Dean said, wondering if they’d be able to turn up any more information tonight. “Why don’t you head back to Jody’s and get cleaned up, Sam? I can stay here and keep an eye out for the doc.” He tucked his car keys into Sam's pocket as he walked past. "Don't get that crap on the seats or I'll have your hide."

“I’ll stay too,” Cas piped up. Dean froze, but Cas continued, “Why don’t you go home as well, Alex? We don’t all need to be here, and you’ve had a busy day already.”

“Sure, that’s not a bad idea. I’ll help Sam with some research once we get home.” Alex turned to follow Sam into the nurses’ station.

Jack looked uncertain. “Do you want me to stay?”

Dean had been trying to avoid being alone with Cas all day, but now… He needed to have this conversation, to make things right between them. “That’s okay, Jack. Why don't you go back to Jody’s as well? We've got this.”

Jack headed off with the others and Dean and Cas sat down in the nurses’ station. Paul brought Dean a coffee, which basically made the annoying nurse his new best friend, Ghostfacers fandom notwithstanding.

Paul handed over the steaming mug, sitting down for barely a moment before he glanced at his watch and jumped up again. “Guess I should actually make my rounds, now that all the excitement’s died down. Be back in a few.” He left his cup on one of the desks, and left the room.

Dean shifted awkwardly, sipping at his coffee and trying not to scald his tongue. Dude made great coffee, but damn, it was hot.

He should really take this opportunity. He stared into his cup like it might hold the secrets to apologizing to your best friend for trying on his lacy underwear, but it remained stubbornly blank.

Cas broke the silence first. “Dean, I'm sorry that I walked in on you last night. It embarrassed you.”

 _Be cool. No panicking_. Dean laughed awkwardly and said, “It's fine, man. I should be the one apologizing. I tried on your clothes without asking you.” There, that wasn't too bad.

“That's fine. I wore your clothes, too.”

Dean finally looked up at Cas. His face had its usual patient, kind expression, his smile ten percent in the corners of his mouth and the rest in his eyes. He had no idea how badly this had fucked Dean up. “No, Cas, I shouldn't have…It's just that I've always wanted to try on panties like that again, ever since…”

_Abort, abort, TMI, do not continue…_

Cas cocked his head. “You've worn them before?”

Dean swallowed his panic down. “It was a long time ago. Anyway it doesn't matter, because I'll wash them and get them back to you, don't worry.” He cringed at his nervous babbling.

“No, _you_ should stop worrying, Dean. You can keep the panties. I have others. I saw how you looked at them, and—” He paused, looking a little embarrassed himself. “I knew they were in the wash. I wasn't expecting you to…” He trailed off, looking away.

Dean stared at him. That little shit. He'd purposely put the panties in Dean’s way? His astonishment trickled into anger. How could he have done such a thing? He should get up and walk away. He should leave right now, before he said something he shouldn’t, like…

“I liked it.”

Cas’ eyes snapped back to Dean, and Dean was sure he was mirroring Cas’ astonishment because _what the fuck had just come out of his mouth?!_

Cas said, cautiously, “You…you did?”

Dean nodded. “Yeah. I really did. I liked wearing them, and...I liked seeing you in them.”

A small part of Dean’s brain was screaming in the background, but Dean resolutely ignored it and waited with a held breath to see what would happen next.

He was rewarded by the most hungry look he’d ever seen cross Cas’ features, and in the last nine years, he’d seen a lot of similar looks on Cas.

Cas leaned forward. “Did you?”

And, there was the eyebrow from his dream. Dean was done for. His heart was about to choke him, it was beating so hard.

“I’m sorry, am I interrupting something?”

Both Dean and Cas turned to look at Paul, standing in the doorway. The nurse cringed, but stepped into the room and quickly crossed it to grab his coffee. “Sorry! Just on my way out again.” He scurried off.

Dean looked back to Cas, and both of them laughed quietly. Well, there went the moment. Dean was about to open his mouth to try to salvage it, when his phone rang in his pocket. He fished it out and looked at the display. “It’s Sam.”

He answered on speaker. “Sammy?”

“Dean, we’re coming back to the hospital. I’ve just had a call from Rowena. We think we know what’s going on with these ghosts.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for your kind words so far! We're nearly there...


	4. Chapter 4

After Sam's call, Dean and Cas reverted to professionalism, tidying up their gear and giving Paul the low down on ghost protection. 

“Just keep the salt lines across the doors until we know what's happening, okay? And if you get a chance to look into Doctor Holmes, that would be a big help.”

“Got it. I'll call you if anything happens.”

Dean nodded, clapping Paul on the shoulder. He was always reluctant to give his number out, mostly because doing that usually led to more work. He turned to look at Cas. The angel had been uncharacteristically quiet since their conversation had been interrupted, but he reached forward and offered a hand, saying, “Thank you for your assistance, Paul.”

“Hey, it was fun,” Paul said, shaking his hand. “Terrifying, but fun. Happy to help!”

Dean shifted from foot to foot during the ride down in the elevator, still unsure what had happened back there in the office. He'd unintentionally confessed that he liked accidentally seeing Cas in panties, and if he wasn't mistaken, Cas had been into it. Like, _really_ into it. Dean was busting out of his skin to find out just how into it Cas was, because if he didn't want to, y'know, do anything about it, then Dean was going to have to salt and burn the green panties.

He had to know. He turned to Cas, meeting his wide, blue eyes nervously. 

“Cas, just now before Sam called, you said…”

Cas raised his hand, holding his fingers just shy of Dean's lips to stop him. 

“No, not now. We'll talk later. But, you might like to see this.”

He gave Dean a mischievous look and put his hand to his waistband, pulling down his belt to reveal the top edge of white lace. 

Dean’s breath left him in a whoosh and an, “...Oh.” His gaze flicked back up to Cas’ face, and the smirk he saw there made all his blood rush downstairs. Did that mean what Dean wanted that to mean? 

He was just about to grab Cas and slam him against the mirrored elevator wall in a kiss, when the doors opened. Cas turned and wandered out like he hadn't just left Dean feeling like a hormonal teenager and Dean was left to pull himself together, tell Little Dean to pipe down, and follow him out with a frustrated growl. 

Outside the front doors of the hospital, Jack was waiting in the Impala, and Sam was standing near the passenger door in fresh, non-goopy clothes. He threw Dean the keys as he and Cas approached, peering at Dean. “You okay, man? You look flushed. You guys see some more action after we left?”

Dean caught the keys in one hand and huffed, glancing at Cas. “No.” He got into the driver's seat, starting the car with a rumble. “What's the deal with Rowena?”

Sam looked over from the passenger side. “She actually rang while we were on our way back to Jody’s. Head left here. We're making for the Falls park.”

“What, the actual Sioux Falls falls? What's there?” Dean asked. What on earth was Rowena getting them into now? 

“So, Rowena and alt-Charlie are still road tripping, right? They're actually nearby, somewhere in Minnesota. They just had to take down a vengeful ghost that attacked them when they were checking out some abandoned building. Don't ask, I didn't.”

Dean chuckled. Who knew what those two red-headed terrors were up to? 

Sam continued, “Rowena says she managed to banish it, or something—I’m not even sure what that means, but she checked out the area and she says… Actually, it’s probably better if you hear it from her.”

While Sam fiddled with his phone, Dean glanced at Cas in the rear-view mirror—right into curious blue eyes. He was annoyed at how unruffled Cas looked, when Dean was just about climbing the walls. It was uncomfortable to sit in the driver’s seat when his jeans were tighter than usual, but he forced himself to keep his attention on the road and not on the back seat. The sooner they could get whatever was up with Rowena over with, the sooner he could get back to investigating what was under the angel’s clothes—if that was what Cas had meant by showing him another glimpse, of course. There was still a chance that Dean was imagining the whole chemistry between them, and that Cas had just been comparing wardrobes again. Surely not, though. Damn, hunting while horny was never a great combination.

“Sam? Did you find a rift?” Rowena’s distinctive brogue came though Sam’s phone speaker with a tinny edge.

“No, we’re still in the car, but we’ve picked up Dean and Cas now. Could you explain to them what you found?”

Rowena chuckled. “Ooh, I’d pick those two sweeties up anyday. Hello, ma wee chookies! Anyhoo, Charlie and I were heading to a midnight mass here in Luverne last night, but we all got chased away by this awful ghost who threw people around. A few were hurt but not badly. I banished the ghost back to the veil, but it’s weak here.”

“Wait, what’s weak?” Dean glanced at Sam again, raising his eyebrows.

Rowena continued, “Well, didn’t Castiel say that Heaven was getting low on power? And with Asmodeus and Lucifer gone, who knows what kind of mess Hell is in? Not to mention all the holes you've been cutting between the worlds! The barriers between the worlds are weak—souls are escaping, and from what Sam told me about your night so far, they’re a wee bit pissed about it.”

Dean looked at Cas in the rear-view, to see him nodding. Cas spoke loudly so Rowena could hear. “It makes sense—the ghosts we’ve encountered in this area have been stronger than usual. More…manifested.”

Dean stopped at a red light and turned to look at Sam properly. “Okay, so I’m guessing you’ve got some idea of how we can fix this? How do we make the veil stronger again? Or are we just going to be chasing around pissed off ghosts for the next...forever? We’re not actually the fucking Ghostfacers.”

Sam chuckled, “Rowena scryed to find the weak points in veil. Turns out there's a big one here, in Sioux Falls. That’s where we’re headed.”

Rowena spoke up again. “Aye, that’s right, at the waterfall. Your Jack might be able to pour some power into it. Now, I’m sorry, but we’ve got a party to get to. Good luck, and let us know how you get on.”

“Right, thanks Rowena,” Sam said, and hung up.

The car was quiet for a few moments. Dean turned into the parking area at the park near the Sioux Falls, his mind whirling. It all came down to Jack again. The kid had been quiet, more reserved since returning from the Apocalypse world. They’d left his father behind, and he knew his Uncle Gabe and others had died to buy them time. He felt responsible for all of it—or so he had told Cas. He wouldn’t talk to Dean about it, and Dean wasn’t sure why. He hated to ask Jack to use his powers again, but if this veil thing was really a problem, they needed to get on it.

Grabbing shotguns and iron, they moved into the park, passing the old ruined mill to their left. Dean could hear the river somewhere ahead, rushing with the rains of spring, but it was all dark. They'd been here before one Christmas with Jody and the falls had been lit up. Tonight he could only see a glow on the white water from the floodlights on the ruins. 

Dean shivered as a cool breeze curled around his neck, and Cas breathed out a cloud beside him. There was definitely something here—he could sense a static in the air, a tension that he was pretty sure wasn't just between him and the angel two feet away. 

Cas murmured, “Jack?”

The nephilim was looking around, into the air around them, then above them. “I sense it, I think,” he said, moving forward cautiously with an iron poker held in one hand. 

At the top of stairs that led down to the river, Jack stopped abruptly. “You hear that?” he asked, head cocked to one side. 

“No?” Sam replied warily as he walked down a few of the stairs. 

Cas moved along the fenceline between the ruined building and the steep slope down to the river. “It sounds like…voices.”

Dean stumbled after him, his boots crunching on the frosty grass. The cold was pinching at his cheeks now. “Wh-what kinda v-voices?”

“I can't make it out,” Cas replied, looking back towards Dean with concern. “Dean, go back if it's getting too cold.”

“I'm f-fine.” No way Dean was gonna leave Cas and Jack to deal with this alone, even though Sam was hanging back a ways. 

“I can hear them.” 

Dean and Cas shared a look, then both turned to look at Jack. 

The nephilim had his eyes closed, his face scrunched up like he was in pain. “They're…screaming. They don't want to come here.”

He stumbled past them, down the hill towards the river above the falls. When he reached the rocky shore along the fast-flowing river, he stopped. Dean and Cas caught up, Cas indicating that Dean should head to the upstream side of Jack. Cas himself moved downstream, hopping between rocks like a freaking mountain goat. 

The rush of the water was so loud that Dean couldn't hear what Jack said next, but he stumbled forwards a few steps onto the rocks, then called something out and threw his hands up, dropping the poker to the ground with a clatter. 

Dean kept his knees loose as he looked around, sure that something was about to jump them. His breath was streaming out in a cloud, and he could see Sam's doing the same from his position higher on the hill. 

A bright light pulled his attention back to Jack. Grace light was streaming from his hands, his eyes glowing gold as he looked around into the air above the waterfall. He shouted, loud enough for Dean to hear, “I've got it!” 

A dim glow shot out from Jack in a strange pattern in the air. At first Dean thought it was just mist above the falls lighting up, but as it spread and formed around him, he saw that the light was arranged in a regular, three-dimensional pattern, possibly tiny hexagons or other tiny shifting shapes forming a matrix. It was there, then it all disappeared in a flash. He blinked—it had barely been visible, but he had definitely seen areas where the pattern had been different, damaged, perhaps. 

Light was still streaming from Jack. Dean could barely look at him, but he could see the kid was starting to sway. Dean had been worried he wasn't strong enough yet for this kind of crap, and he hoped he hadn't been right. He shouted, “Cas?”

Cas whirled around from where he'd been staring out into the grace patterns as well, and he looked to Jack when Dean frantically pointed. He immediately covered the short distance to where Jack was standing and clapped a hand to his shoulder, his eyes lighting up with grace. A blue flash joined the golden one, and Cas closed his eyes in concentration. 

Dean’s heartbeat surged with worry. Fuck, he hoped Cas knew what he was doing. They really didn't know how big this “weakness” was, and if either of them burned out… He didn't even want to consider that. He wished he could help out somehow, but who knew what might happen if he touched them now. 

He looked around wildly to check on Sam, and saw him flailing around with an iron poker. As Dean turned away from the river and headed uphill to help him, whatever Sam was fighting slammed into him and knocked him onto his back on the concrete path. 

“Sammy!” Dean yelled and hurried towards him, only to feel something cold sweep past his shoulder. He stopped and looked around, not seeing anything, but he could hear something now, just in the edge of audible range. A high keening, almost like the ear-piercing whine that was how humans perceived angelic voices. It grew louder and louder, but Dean struggled forwards towards Sam, who was getting back to his feet, poker in hand. An indistinct shape loomed in front of him, but before Sam could hit it with the iron, an explosion of white angelic energy knocked Dean and Sam to the ground. 

Dean looked up again just in time to see a huge splash as something landed in the water. A flash of tan coat and dark legs and what Dean now realised was Cas tumbled over the edge of the waterfall. He jumped back to his feet, rubbing his head where he'd slammed it into the grassy slope. 

Down below on the rocks, Jack shouted, “Castiel!” and vanished. 

“Fuck.” Dean stared down at the empty riverbank, then looked back to Sam, who was still lying on his back, out cold, or worse. 

“Fuck,” he repeated as he knelt down by Sam, carefully feeling the back of his brother's head for injury. His fingers came away a little bloody, but Sam was still breathing. Dean let out a relieved sigh, then tapped him on the shoulder and called, “Sammy? Wake up, dude, we gotta get outta here.”

Sam stirred, trying to lift his head with a groan. “What hit me?” he mumbled, bringing a hand to his head, then he jerked half-upright, nearly headbutting Dean in the process. “The ghosts!”

Dean leaned back in his heels, putting a hand on Sam's arm to calm him. “It's okay, I think they're gone. You okay? I gotta go check on Cas ‘n Jack.”

Sam put his hand to the back of his head and winced. “Yeah, I think so. What happened?”

“Dunno.” Dean jumped to his feet. “Gonna try to find out,” he called as he jogged towards the stairs. 

He headed down to the lookout below the Falls, taking the stairs two at a time. He couldn't see anything in the water, but as he got closer to the railing, he could just make out two figures lying on the bank in the gloom further downstream. 

“Fuck,” he muttered again, heading back to the path along the river. If that asshole had gone and got himself killed again before Dean got to properly see him in the fucking panties, he was gonna bring him back and fucking murder him all over again. 

They'd been carried a long way downstream. As he jogged closer, Dean could see Jack moving slightly, pulling himself up to look around at Dean before he slumped back down. Cas was lying on his back, limbs askew. 

“Shit. It's okay, Jack. It's gonna be okay.” Dean dropped to his knees beside Cas, who was soaking wet and not moving at all. Should he feel for a pulse? He didn't think angels needed to breathe, but he was pretty sure their vessels’ hearts continued to beat. He dropped his head onto Cas’ chest, wincing at the soggy shirt, but he felt a slight rise and fall as well as the beat of Cas’ heart. “Fucking hell, you asshole,” he whispered, relieved. He sat up again when Cas jerked slightly, then coughed up a load of water, rolling into his side. 

“Cas?” Dean asked, but Cas just lay there, breathing shallowly, and shaking slightly. Dean put a hand to Cas’ cheek. He was icy cold. “Shit,” Dean muttered and fished his phone out of his pocket. He dialled Sam, cursing again when he didn't answer. 

He put the phone away and turned to Jack. “Jack? How're you doing there, bud?”

Jack rolled onto his back, blinking at Dean. “I think I'm okay. I'm very tired, though.”

Dean winced. “I'll bet you are, but do you think you could do one more thing for me? Fly Cas up to the car?”

Jack breathed out a long sigh, as though gathering his strength, then he reached out a hand to Dean like he wanted help to stand up. When Dean reached out to grip his hand, Jack threw out the other hand to Cas’ coat. 

The empty cold of the aether gripped Dean like a vice, but Jack's grip was firm and only a moment later, they thumped down on the grass next to the Impala. 

“Holy fucking…give us a bit of warning before you pull that crap, would ya?” Dean spat at Jack as he shuddered, then he quickly checked on Cas’ vitals again, his frown deepening as he took in his bluish lips. He let out a long breath when he was still breathing, although still unconscious and shivering. 

He glanced over at Jack, who was sitting up, sullenly hugging his knees. He was bone dry, even though Cas was still soaked to the bone from his little swim. “I'm sorry, Jack. Thank you. Do you think you could, y'know, dry him out too?”

Jack shook his head, uncertain. “I'm still not great at control. I could dry him out, or I could incinerate him.” He frowned. 

_Fuck_. Dean nodded. “Okay. Pretty sure I've got a blanket stashed in the back here somewhere.”

He stood up, noticing Sam slumped in the passenger seat. “Shit. Sam? Wake up, bitch. No sleeping on the job!” He opened the door and shook Sam's shoulder until he blinked open and swore at Dean. If he was actually concussed, he didn't want to be sleeping right now, and if Cas didn't come to soon with all his faculties, they might all be about to head to the ER. 

He pulled the rough blankets from the trunk that he and Sam used to use when they camped in the car. They hadn't done that in years, but he still kept them handy, just in case. He laid one blanket in the back seat, then with Jack's help, got Cas out of his sodden coat and wrapped in the other blanket, then tucked into the back seat as well. By the time he was in the car, Cas was shivering so hard his teeth were clattering together. “Hang in there, angel,” Dean murmured as he tucked the blanket around him. 

***

The drive back to Jody’s felt longer than it should have, but that was mostly because Dean spent a lot of it either shouting at Sam to stay awake, or fighting down panic about Cas’ condition. It would have been nice if Jack had been able to get his healing ability under control, but that was more of a risk than either of them were willing to take, it seemed. 

He phoned ahead, so when they pulled into the driveway at about midnight, Jody and Alex were both out there in their pajamas, looking worried. 

Alex took control. “Get Cas inside. He needs his clothes off and preferably someone else's body heat on him.” She turned a pointed look at Dean, who pointedly ignored her, although he was sure his body was betraying him when he felt his face getting warm. Alex turned to Sam to check out his head, and Dean grabbed Cas, bridal-style, and took him into the house, wet blankets and all. 

He laid Cas down on the bed in the room that he'd slept in himself the previous night. Cas had started shifting around, making small sounds of distress. 

Jody hovered around behind Dean. “Come on, we've got to get him out of those wet clothes.” She moved forward and pulled Cas up, trying to pull his suit jacket off one arm. 

Alarm bells started ringing in Dean's head—the white panties! How was he going to get Jody out of here so he could let Cas keep his dignity? 

Cas muttered something, then opened his eyes slightly. 

“Cas?” Dean leaned over him, one hand on his shoulder. “It's okay, buddy, I got you. Can you sit up?” He helped Jody pull Cas to a sitting position, and they pulled Cas’ jacket off the rest of the way. 

“Dean? Dean, ‘s very ‘portant…” he mumbled, eyes unfocused. 

“What is it, Cas?” Dean asked as he carefully undid Cas’ shirt buttons. Of all the ways he had imagined undressing Cas, this was pretty far from all of them. 

Cas looked seriously into Dean's eyes for a moment. “The green ones—they look the best. They look b-beautiful…” Cas trailed off again, his head lolling to the side. 

Jody huffed out a laugh as they removed Cas’ shirt and let him lie back down. “You got any idea what he's talking about?”

Dean tried to speak past the tightness in his throat and kept his eyes resolutely down. “Nope. Look, Jodes, if anyone's gonna undress him and warm him up, it should probably be me, okay? Let the guy have some space?”

Jody stepped back and gave him a fond, but slightly worried smile. “You sure you're alright with this?” She laid a warm, dry blanket over Cas’ top half as he lay shivering in the cool night air. 

Dean tried for his best long-suffering brotherly face. “I'll take one for the team.”

“Aw, you're adorable. I'm sure Alex will be up soon to check him out.” Jody left, closing the door behind her. 

Dean turned back to the task at hand, blowing out a long breath. “How the fuck did we end up here, Cas?” He kept talking quietly as he unbuckled Cas’ belt and trousers. “I really thought I'd lost you again today, you know that? I don't think I could have…” He trailed off as he hitched the trousers down to reveal the white panties. 

They were bikini-cut, mostly white satin but with cutaway sections of lace. They contained all of Cas’ package in a neat bulge, and sat snugly around the top of his thighs. Dean found himself swallowing hard. He ran one finger down the lacy side near Cas’ hip, and startled when Cas moved slightly, calling out, “Dean,” in a low voice. What the hell was he doing? He couldn't do this while Cas was essentially unconscious and freezing cold. He quickly pulled the trousers the rest of the way down, cursing when he found soggy boots and socks at the end of each leg. 

He grabbed the rest of the blankets and tucked them carefully around Cas, dumped the wet clothes in the garbage bag Jody had brought in, then shucked his own shoes and coat and climbed into bed with Cas. 

He put his back to Cas’ side, sure that his warmth would heat up the area under the blankets. It felt uncomfortable as hell, but he couldn't roll over or it would basically be cuddling. 

A knock sounded at the door, and Alex poked her head in. What was it with people coming in uninvited in this house? “How're you guys doing in here?” she asked. “Wait, have you got your shirt on? Don't you know anything about hypothermia? Skin to skin is the fastest way to regulate temperature. Come on!”

Dean peered at her. She seemed to be enjoying this rather a lot. He sat up and reluctantly took off his shirt as Alex checked Cas, measuring his temperature, and lifting his eyelids to shine a flashlight into each of them. “I have no idea about angel physiology, but I'd say once he's warm and his grace recovers a bit, he should be good as new. I don't see any other injuries on him—” She went to lift the blanket. “Did you when you—”

“No!” Dean grabbed the blanket, pulling it back up to Cas’ chin. “He's fine. Let's get him warmer first.”

Alex stepped back, surprise. “O-kay…Guess I'll come and check in again later. Don't have too much fun,” she added with a smirk as she left the room. 

Dean frowned. He was never gonna live this down, was he? 

He got back under the blankets and turned his frown to Cas, who was muttering and shifting in place. “Come on, then. Skin to skin.” He wrapped an arm around Cas’ shoulders and pulled him into his side, wincing at the touch of his ice-cold skin. He was tense as a spring, bending to snapping point, but Cas needed him, and dammit, he was going to be here for him. 

Cas sighed, and it was the most content sound Dean had ever heard him make. He curled into Dean, pressing his cold nose into Dean's neck and his icy fingers on his chest. Dean hissed a little, but it didn't take long for his warmth to seep through. It still took a while for Cas to stop shivering and settle into a calm sleep, though. 

Dean exhaled, letting the stress and panic of the day drift away. He pressed a kiss to Cas’ forehead and smiled. Everything was gonna be fine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look, I'm sorry, this chapter ended up being a lot more plotty and less... pant-y (?) than I intended, but you know what's coming next, right?


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello dear readers! I'm so sorry this took so long, but life threw me in the deep end this weekend. This chapter is extra-long to hopefully make up for it. And y'know, extra smutty. 
> 
> Thanks for coming along on this little journey with me. I hope you've enjoyed it as much as I have <3

Dean stirred, shifting against the warm weight draped over him. He sighed comfortably, then froze. _Cas_. Cas was still snuggled into his side, under his arm. He opened his eyes a crack, to see wide blue ones peering back at him from where Cas’ head rested on his shoulder. 

“Hello, Dean,” Cas rumbled in an impossibly-low morning voice. The sound vibrated through him, sending a wake-up call straight to his cock. Great, the last thing he needed right now was inconvenient morning wood. 

“Hey, Cas,” he replied, smiling nervously at their usual exchange in this very new situation. “How you feeling?” 

Castiel smiled slightly in return, but stayed very still. “Um, you might like to fill me in on the details. How...Why are we cuddling?”

Dean blinked once, then pulled his arm from behind Cas’ shoulders and quickly shuffled back a few inches to his side of the bed. _Shit_. The reality hit him—he was lying in bed, snuggling his best friend who was naked except for a pair of lacy panties, and it was all doing some very interesting things to Dean's grasp on sanity right now. Cas must be so confused. 

Perhaps the worst part was that he still hadn't established whether Cas was actually interested in some kind of physical action. There Dean went, jumping to conclusions again. The panic welled in his chest, but when his eyes met Cas’ again, he was surprised to see a touch of sadness there. He ploughed on anyway. “Sorry, it was nothing, I just…you were…you were cold. And unconscious, and Alex told me I had to warm you up, so I jumped in the bed too, and—”

“Thank you. That was nice of you.”

Dean took a breath, and tried to calm his racing heart. “You're welcome.”

Cas closed his eyes briefly. “My grace is very faint. And my vessel is weak.”

“Yeah, you ended up in the river after helping Jack. I'm guessing you burned out pretty hard, and your body was pretty busted up there for a while.” Dean caught his breath as it hit him how close he had been to losing Cas all over again. 

Cas huffed and lifted a hand to rub at his face, then tucked it back under the covers. “I think…I might be hungry.”

“We can probably fix that,” Dean murmured. 

Cas inched closer, lining himself along Dean's side again and closing his eyes. “Can we do that later?” He put his hand on Dean's arm, trying to lift it. 

Dean flinched, confusion clenching his stomach. “What're you doing?”

Cas blinked at him. “Cuddling. Isn't that what you wanted?”

“Well…well yeah. But only if you wanted to as well?” Dean felt adrift. He really had no idea what was going on now, but he figured he'd just roll with it. 

Cas gave him his infinitely-patient, heavenly-being look. “Yes, Dean. I would have thought that was obvious by now.” He shifted Dean's arm so he could duck under it, pressing into Dean's side more firmly, which meant his hips also pressed into him. And that was certainly not a hip bone he was feeling. 

Dean swallowed. His whole body was crackling with energy. Cas wanted this—had possibly wanted it all along. Dean pulled his arm in and around Cas to hold him tightly, then lifted his other hand from under the blanket and gently touched Cas’ jaw. The prickly sensation under his fingers was new, but the stirring of want was as familiar as breathing. He was gonna do this. He could do this. He inched his face closer, giving Cas time to pull away if he wanted to, but Cas just kept his hungry gaze on Dean's lips, parting his own slightly as his eyes flicked up to Dean's... and then Dean was in so deep it was like drowning. He closed the distance and brushed Cas’ lips with his own. 

Cas let out a small sound of pleasure, and leaned into the next kiss, bringing his hand up to the back of Dean's head. 

Dean was floating, and reasonably sure he was still asleep and dreaming. It had been a long time since he'd kissed anyone, but all his previous experiences faded next to the utter joy at kissing his best friend of nearly ten years who he'd been crushing on for most of that time. He felt light as air, and he smiled against Cas’ mouth. He ran one hand down Cas’ side, the bare skin smooth and warm, and sucked in a sharp breath when his hand found lace at Cas’ hip. 

The panties! He brushed his hand over the lace, and the way Cas caught his breath as well made his own heart thump in his chest. 

He captured Cas’ lower lip and licked along it, then after another lingering kiss, he murmured, “Can I touch you?”

Cas breathed, “Yes,” as Dean started placing kisses along his rough jawline. Fuck, he tasted good—he wanted to taste every fucking inch of Cas’ skin. He let his hand run lightly across the satin on the front of the panties, a low moan escaping him as he felt the outline of a long, firm cock straining against the fabric. He rubbed it once, twice, and Cas gasped, arching his back. 

Jesus, if Cas didn't quit that, this was all going to be over a lot sooner than Dean would like. He quickly adjusted his own tight jeans, suddenly annoyed that he hadn't removed them the previous night. 

Cas took that opportunity to regroup, dragging his teeth down Dean's neck and sucking gently over his collarbone. Dean gasped as Cas pushed him down onto his back, his gaze teasing as he kissed a trail down to Dean's nipple. 

Dean had never been so hard in his life. His blood was zinging, and when Cas dragged his tongue over his nipple he nearly creamed his pants right there. He felt Cas fumbling with his belt buckle and briefly wondered how he'd managed to learn so much about the art of seduction. Cas pulled his jeans open and mouthed over his hard length inside his boxer briefs and his vision whited out. He must have let out a louder sound because Cas looked up suddenly and gave him the eyebrow. 

“Dean, may I remind you that there is family in the house. Are you going to be able to keep it down?”

Dean gaped at him, finding the sudden tone of command seriously arousing. He nodded, lifting his hips slightly. 

Cas smirked. “Good,” he murmured as he wriggled Dean’s jeans down over his hips, then did the same with his boxers, letting Dean's rock-hard cock spring free. 

Dean's breath was coming quickly now. It had been a long time since he'd done this with a guy, but this was Cas. He wanted it to be perfect—this wasn't just some fling in a nightclub bathroom. 

“Cas?” he asked breathily. “Are you sure you want this?”

Cas levelled him with that stare again. “You have no idea how long I've wanted this. Let me take care of you, Dean. It's my turn.”

He lowered his head and licked a long stripe up the underside of Dean’s cock, and Dean gasped from the intensity of it. He breathed through some exploratory licks and nips, but when Cas finally put his whole mouth around Dean and slid downwards, Dean let out a cry. He suddenly found a warm hand covering his mouth, and he moaned again, amazed at how good it felt letting Cas take over in this way. 

Cas bobbed up and down, and Dean’s muffled groans were quiet enough that he could hear the obscene licking and sucking sounds. He was so close to the edge already that all it took was one hard yank on his balls for him to fall over it, thrusting into the back of Cas’ mouth and letting it all go. 

Cas took his hand away and Dean breathed hard for a few moments, until he found Cas back in his face, kissing his jawline. 

“Jesus, Cas, where did you learn to do that? That was awesome.”

Between kisses, Cas said, “Oh, I found your browser history ages ago. Pornhub is surprisingly easy to navigate.”

Dean laughed, and pulled Cas in by the back of his neck for a lingering kiss on his swollen lips. 

Cas smiled after the kiss, but then his face turned thoughtful. “I'm not going to let you come in my mouth again, though. Semen tastes less pleasant than I was led to believe.” He screwed up his nose and Dean couldn't help but laugh again. 

There was a tentative knock at the door. Both of them froze, looking at each other. “Yeah?” Dean called out, hoping whoever it was wasn’t going to just walk in as seemed to be the norm around here. 

“Uh, guys? You want breakfast?” Sam sounded hesitant, like he had drawn the short straw to come get them. Dean’s throat closed up momentarily. How were they going to break this to his family? To Sam? How were they going to make this work? Did Cas even want that? Was this just a hookup? Dean's eyes darted away, suddenly finding Cas’ concerned gaze difficult to take. 

“We'll be down in a moment,” Cas called. 

“Okay.” Sam's footsteps moved away from the door. 

“Dean, look at me.” Cas gently lifted Dean's chin until their eyes were locked again. “Don't freak out.”

“I'm… I’m not—”

“You _are_.” Cas ran his long fingers across Dean's collarbone, making him shiver. “Are you ashamed of me?”

Dean was momentarily horrified. “No! Of course not, I…I just…” He just what? He could tell Cas that he had felt awful for having fantasies about an angel, that he could do better than an asshole like him, but really, Cas had wanted this too. He'd just been leading Dean on awkwardly, without having a clue how to do it. 

He took a breath and tried again. “It's just a big change, that's all. Sam already knows that I'm into guys, so he'll probably be fine with it.”

“Probably?” Cas asked with a quirk of his lips. 

“Bitch'll have to be,” Dean replied, and pulled Cas in for another kiss. 

***

Breakfast was pretty much as awkward as Dean imagined it would be. He'd taken a shower after they'd gotten up, so by the time he slunk into the kitchen, the others were already done with their breakfast and were sitting around waiting for him. 

Sam was sitting at the table, looking super uncomfortable, and Cas was standing, leaning against the bench, fully dressed once more in suit, tie and trench coat. Alex and Jody were obviously bursting to know what was going on, their smirks just shy of really fucking annoying. Christ, Dean needed coffee. 

He crossed the kitchen to the coffee maker and poured himself a cup, aware of eyes on him. He wondered what Cas had said to them, if he'd even said anything. Oh well, may as well jump in with two feet. He turned and stepped closer to Cas, turning to lean against the bench next to him, their hips flush.

Cas uncrossed his arms and put one behind Dean's back, and Dean leaned into him, loving the contact and trying real hard not to remember what was under all those layers. 

The whoop that came from Jody nearly made Dean wear his coffee. She slapped both hands over her mouth, as Alex beamed. 

“Finally!” Alex said. “You two finally got your shit together.”

Dean glanced at Cas to find him looking back, quizzically. He looked at Sam, who was also grinning. Had everyone known about him and Cas except for them? 

“Don't know what you're talking about,” he said, leaning over to rest his head on Cas’ shoulder. 

The others laughed, and the tension was diffused. By the time Jack wandered in a few minutes later, Dean was at the table with a plate of pancakes in front of him, tucking in with enthusiasm. 

Sam got down to business. “So, we think Jack managed to patch up the weak spot in the veil here, with Cas’ help of course.” 

Cas nodded. “So the ghosts around the rift just disappeared? What about the haunting at the hospital?”

“It looked like the one Sam was fighting burned up when you guys did your…rift-fixing thing,” Dean said around a mouthful, waving his knife in the air.

Sam eyed him with distaste. Dean hated it when Sam frowned on his table manners, so he made sure to ham it up for him at every opportunity. 

Sam looked back to Cas. “Yeah, the ones around the falls are gone, but we can drop into the hospital on our way out of town to check there. The police and hunter channels are quiet this morning.”

Jody nodded. “We'll let you know if anything pops up.” Her eyes flicked over to Jack and her brow furrowed. “Jack, honey, are you okay?”

All eyes turned to Jack, who was just sitting at the table, staring at his plate of pancakes. He looked rough, dark circles under his eyes as he glanced up. “I'm fine. Didn't sleep well, that's all.” His gaze dropped back to the table. 

Jody caught Dean's eye with a look that only a mom can produce, which seemed to say something like, “You'd better look after this kid or I'm coming for you.”

Dean swallowed his mouthful of pancake. “It's okay, Jack, you can nap in the car. We've got a few hours to get back home. We'll get outta your hair shortly, Jody.”

Jody shook her head. “You know you're always welcome as long as you need.”

“Thanks,” Sam said with a smile. He stood up and left the room, Cas following him.

Alex also stood up. “I gotta get to work. You guys be good.” She landed down to kiss Dean on the cheek, then Jack flushed bright red when she did the same to him. “Catch you later, kid. Bye Jodes.”

They all chorused their goodbyes. Once she had gone, Jody leaned over towards Dean and put a hand on his arm. “So, how're you doing there?”

Dean ran a finger around the edge of his plate to wipe up syrup, and licked it off, considering how to play this. He was still internally screaming that this was a dream, how could he have just gotten the best blow job in his life from _Cas_? But he was gradually coming around to the idea that everyone seemed to be okay with the whole thing and he wasn't about to be struck by holy lightning. 

“Yeah, Jodes. I'm good. Really, really good.” He tried hard not to grin, but his mouth did it's own thing and Jody’s smile answered.

She whacked him on the arm. “Good for you! I don't think I've seen you smile like that in…well, ever. You hold onto that, okay?”

Dean nodded, a warmth taking root in his chest. “I’ll try.” 

“What's going on?” Jack was looking between the two of them, and the furrow between his brows and the slightly tilted head reminded Dean so much of Cas that he laughed. 

“Nothing, man. You'll find out soon enough. Might be a few more ground rules when we get back to the bunker, that's all.”

Jack's face cleared. “Oh, is this about you and Castiel having sex this morning while the rest of us were down here trying to pretend we couldn't hear anything?”

Dean stared open-mouthed, while Jody tried hard to cover her laugh with a cough. Dean's face heated. He guessed honesty was the best policy. 

“Uh, yeah. Guess your mom taught you a lot of things.”

“No, that was Castiel. I found some porn on Sam's computer one night when Cas was there.”

Jody had to stand up and leave the room, she was not-giggling so hard. 

“On Sam's…” Dean had to stop. Oh, if only he could have been there for that conversation. Actually, he probably had been, asleep somewhere nearby. He shook the mental image out of his head and focused back on Jack. “Look, it doesn't change anything, all right? We're still a family, even if Cas and I are…together.”

Jack nodded, smiling. “I understand.”

“Good.” Dean had to get out of here before Jack started asking any more questions he wasn't ready to answer. “I'm gonna go get my stuff. You ready to go in five?”

At Jack's agreement, Dean hightailed it out of the kitchen and almost ran into Cas as he came out of the bedroom they'd just shared. 

“I picked up your things, Dean.” He held out Dean's bag. 

“Thanks, sweetheart,” Dean said absently as he took it. 

Cas’ mouth quirked into a grin and he asked, “Sweetheart?”

Dean could feel himself flushing again. Dammit, one gay interaction and he'd turned into a ten year old. He looked down at the bag and muttered, “Sorry, Cas, dunno what I was thinking.”

Cas put his warm palm to Dean’s cheek, lifting his face until Dean looked him in the eye. “It's all right, I like it.” He leaned in to place a soft kiss on Dean's mouth, and Dean leaned into it, loving that he was getting to have this—that he was allowed to do this. 

“Jeez, guys,” Sam's voice came from down the corridor. “Is this how it's going to be from now on?”

Dean hadn't looked away from Cas’ eyes. “Yup. Better get used to it, Sammy.” As Cas grinned, Dean put two hands on his face and pulled him in for a big smack on the lips. 

***

The flat Kansas horizon rolled out continuously in front of them as they headed for the bunker. Dean idly stroked a thumb over Cas’ hand where it lay on his thigh. After they'd left the hospital, Sam had decided to nap in the back seat too, and he and Jack were currently laid out in the back seat, snoring quietly. 

The hospital had been quiet and peaceful when they'd dropped in. At least, as quiet as those places got. As it turned out, the doctor the ghost had targeted, Doctor Holmes, had been investigated before for misconduct. The investigators wouldn't tell them much, but there was a chance that the Doctor had been found out by Jenny, and he’d arranged to have her disposed of. It was still early days in the investigation (or early hours, even) but there had been suspicious circumstances around her accident that now had direction. Dean hoped she was at peace. 

He looked over at Cas briefly, but the angel was looking out the window in the other direction. Dean was still pinching himself that this was really happening—that this beautiful man, this divine being, ex-warrior of heaven and his friend of so many years, actually wanted to be with him in a very biblical sense. When Dean thought about how Cas had taken him apart that morning with his mouth, his tongue…it was making the road home longer than it had any right to be. 

Finally, _finally_ , they turned into the lane leading to the bunker and parked in the garage. Dean didn't wait as Sam and Jack woke up, but dragged Cas out of the car and tugged his hand down the stairs into the bunker proper.

Thankfully they didn’t see anyone as they hurried towards the living quarters. In the hallway near the bedrooms, Cas pulled Dean's hand, stopping him. He pushed Dean up against the nearest wall and crashed their mouths together, hungrily licking into Dean's mouth. Dean let out a gasp as Cas ground his hips into Dean, then jammed his knee in between Dean's for better friction. 

After a minute or two of desperate making out, Dean grabbed Cas by the coat lapels and held him at arm’s length for a moment, catching his breath. He dragged Cas into his room, shutting the door behind them and pushing Cas against it with a thud. Now Dean could make a little more noise, so he did, gasping and moaning as he ground his hips against Cas this time. He was rock hard, but he stopped and stepped back, wanting to make this last. 

Cas looked ready to launch at him again, but Dean held up a hand to stop him. “Wait. I want to show you something.” He slowly lifted his shirt over his head and dropped it to the floor, smirking at the debauched look in Cas’ stormy eyes. He unbuckled his belt, then his jeans, and turned around to let the denim slide over his ass. 

He heard Cas’ gasp as he dropped the jeans to the floor and stepped out of them, along with his shoes. He was wearing the green satin panties, and they felt amazing—had all day as he walked around the hospital and sat in the car for hours. He wiggled his hips back and forth a few times, one hand on his hip. “Well?”

He turned to look at Cas and grinned again. Cas was breathing hard, his eyes dark and hungry. He'd already dropped his coats on the floor and was in the process of loosening his tie. Dean blinked at him. Even though he'd already officially undressed Cas the previous night, having him awake and lucid for this was on a whole other level of hot. But seeing him remove his tie made something inside him snap, and he surged forward, grabbing Cas’ face again and kissing him urgently as Cas finished removing his tie and went to work on his shirt buttons. 

“Damn you,” kiss, “and your,” kiss, “layers…” Dean managed to get out as he tried to push Cas against the door again, but instead Cas pushed him back so he could drop his own trousers, revealing the white lacy panties in all their glory. Dean took in the sight, his mouth suddenly dry. He dragged his eyes up to Cas’ face, and they stood there for a moment, before crashing back together, bodies and mouths. They both moaned as their two satin-clad erections rubbed together, the warm friction against the fabric’s grain sending a shiver up Dean’s spine and down his legs. Dean dragged his mouth over Cas’ jawline, placing kisses on his stubbled skin. 

Dean had to stop and drag in a breath when Cas grabbed at his cock through the panties, and Cas let out the most sinful growling noise Dean had ever heard him make. He pushed Dean back until he was sitting on the bed behind him, then pushed him onto his back, looming over him. Dean stared up at the angel in awe, light shining around him, his hard cock peeking up above the waistband of the panties. Dean licked his lips reflexively, and Cas’ eyes tracked the movement. He slowly leaned down, dragging his hands from Dean’s knees upwards towards his crotch, then he dropped his mouth onto the satin straining over Dean’s hard length. He nipped and licked at it through the fabric, and the sensation of the wet fabric sent fire racing across his skin.

Cas rubbed his face all over the panties, moaning with obvious enjoyment. Dean could hardly stand it—he was racing closer and closer to the edge just from the friction of Cas’ mouth even through the satin, and he was desperate for him to touch his aching cock. He reached down and put his hands on Cas’ face. “Hey,” he said, “come ‘ere.”

Cas looked up at Dean with fire in his eyes, and possibly a hint of blue grace that set Dean’s veins aflame. _I love him_. The thought caught Dean by surprise, even though he’d known it for a long time. But being able to touch and taste was making the fact undeniable—Cas was the love of his life, and he’d do anything to keep him. 

Cas leaned over him, brushing their cocks together again, making both of them groan as they slotted their mouths together. Dean had fireworks bursting under his skin, but he felt an urge to get as close to Cas as he could. He reached down and under Cas’ waistband, pulling his cock free, then breaking his own out of its confines. He grabbed both of them and stroked upwards, gasping at the sparks behind his eyelids.

Cas thrust up into Dean’s fist a few times, then he stopped sucking marks onto Dean’s neck below his ear and whispered, panting hard, “Dean, I need more. Would you be willing to let me fuck you?”

Several things happened in Dean’s brain in quick succession. Firstly, surprise at hearing the angel curse, and a proud feeling that he was responsible for that. Next was an overwhelming _Yes!_ followed swiftly by a paralysing indecision. He couldn’t deny that he’d fantasized about having sex with Cas, even bottoming for him. He knew he liked it that way himself, although admittedly that had been through toy experimentation rather than experience. Finally, the part of his brain that had just realised that he was overwhelmingly in love with his best friend won, and what the hell, yolo, and so on. 

Dean had hesitated a moment too long and Castiel drew back slightly, a worried frown on his face. “I’m sorry, was that too forward? We don’t have to do anything—”

Dean interrupted him with two fingers to his lips. “It’s fine, Cas. I want to. I want you to.” 

Cas smiled gently and leaned back in for a lingering kiss. He reached down and helped Dean out of his panties, then wriggled out of his own. Dean rolled over to open his nightstand drawer and retrieve a bottle of lube, and he offered it to Cas, suddenly shy. He hoped Cas’ Pornhub education had been thorough, because he was flying mostly blind right now. 

He lay back and Cas kissed him again, gently. “I promise I won’t hurt you, Dean.” He opened the cap and squeezed some lube onto his fingers, then rubbed his fingers and thumb together, peering at them with a trademark squinty-head-tilt.

 _Yep, completely adorable_. 

Cas looked up at him and smiled, then leaned down and kissed him heatedly. Dean nearly jumped out of his skin when Cas took a hold of his cock and started stroking slowly, the lube amplifying every sensation. Cas sat up again by Dean’s hip and switched hands, running his slippery fingers lightly over Dean’s crack.

He looked down at Dean, exuding confidence. “Just relax.” Dean had never seen Cas like this—so in control. He loved it. Then he gasped at the intrusion of a finger. It didn’t hurt—a cool fizzing sensation meant that Cas had sent some grace into him, and he was grateful, although slightly weirded-out by the idea of having grace shoved up there. The finger felt fine—more than fine, and it wasn’t long before he was moaning and pushing himself down onto two fingers. When he glanced up at Cas, his breaths were quick and he had that hungry look in his eyes again. His flushed, rigid cock was sitting untouched in his lap as he worked Dean open—Dean threw his hand over but couldn’t quite reach Cas where he was kneeling. 

Then Cas turned his fingers over and crooked them up, and Dean saw stars. There may have been a third finger at some point but Dean couldn’t tell, it was all amazing and he suspected there was more grace in him than he usually ended up with from being healed. Finally, _finally_ , Cas withdrew his fingers and lubed up his own cock, but Dean reached out to him, suddenly inspired now that some blood had flowed back into his brain. 

“Cas, wait.”

Cas looked up at him, concerned. “What is it? We can stop, if you… if you— “

Dean got up to his knees, then looked up sharply as Cas spoke. “What? Hell no! Just lie down, I wanna try something.”

He pushed Cas down flat on his back and swung one leg over so he was straddling him, Cas’ rock-hard length rubbing along the cleft of his ass. He lifted himself up on his knees, lined himself up, and slowly sank down, the sting from Cas’ breaching his tight muscles eased by a swirl of cool grace. 

“Oh, Dean,” Cas muttered, his eyes closed and a blissful look on his face. 

Dean sighed as Cas filled him up and up, until he was seated in Cas’ lap, adjusting to the warmth. He bent down to capture Cas’ lips again—a sweet and tender kiss. Now he felt complete, joined and happy. He moved up a little, and they both gasped. Sparks shot up Dean’s spine as he started moving in a steady rhythm, relishing the feeling of Cas sliding in and out of him, the pressure building gradually. He wasn’t going to last long—he grabbed the base of his cock to stave off his release, but Cas sat up until he could grab the back of Dean’s neck and pull him in for a searing kiss. He grabbed Dean’s cock and started pumping in time with his movements. They moved together, a little slower with the position change but a pressure was building in Dean’s core and he rushed towards an orgasm, just as Cas shouted out Dean’s name and tensed, thrusting into him, hard. Dean followed, warm, sticky come pumping out over Cas’ hand and his. 

They stayed there for a moment, foreheads together, trading sweet kisses, before Cas pulled himself away and cleaned the mess off with a wave of grace. He lay down, holding his arms open for Dean to snuggle into his side again, almost like they had been when they woke up that morning. 

Dean thought there were very few times he’d been this content. He tilted his face up to Cas, who planted a soft kiss on his lips. “Thanks, Cas.”

“You’re welcome...but you don’t need to thank me for sex, Dean,” Cas replied with a tiny smirk. It was barely there, but Dean could make it out in his eyes. 

“No, I mean for being willing to give this a chance. If you hadn’t been wearing panties back when we were hunting the werewolves in Missouri, we might never have worked this crap out.”

Cas blinked. “You saw them weeks ago? And you never said anything?” 

“Nah, I was terrified! Besides, I had no idea whether you’d be… into it. With, uh…me.”

“Dean, I am so into it.” Cas’ look was so intense it made Dean’s toes curl.

“Yeah, me too.” He smiled at Cas, then kissed him again, gently at first, then more open, demanding.

It was gonna be a long night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed this story, would you consider [reblogging](https://ellen-of-oz.tumblr.com/post/178005632691/undercover-angel-EllenOfOz-supernatural) it? :) 
> 
> So what's coming next? My story for the DCBB is posting in November, and I have more Smut Bingo on the way even before then. 
> 
> Please [feel free to subscribe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/EllenOfOz/pseuds/EllenOfOz) to get more stories in your inbox, [or you can come flail at me on Tumblr.](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/ellen-of-oz)
> 
> Thanks once again to my wonderful betas and cheer squad, TrenchcoatBaby, WaywardJenn, WaywardAF67 and CBFirestarter. Love you, girls!
> 
> I have never been to Sioux Falls so I hope that part of the story isn't too inaccurate for those who know the area!


End file.
